


Brother, don't go

by TheWayneManner



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bat Family, Brotherly Love, Dark, Explicit Language, Gen, Graphic Threats, Gun Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, See End Notes for Trigger Warning Tags that could be potential spoilers, Violence, drug use happens off screen, tags are subject to change, the Joker doing Joker-esque things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26136076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWayneManner/pseuds/TheWayneManner
Summary: Someone's dying tonight, the only question is who.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68
Collections: JayDick Summer Exchange 2020





	Brother, don't go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GavotteAndGigue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/gifts).



> GavotteAndGigue, this is only the first chapter of two and I am so sorry about that, but as a Pinch-Hitter, I just simply ran out of time and didn’t want to rush such a wonderful prompt. So thank you for your patience in advance and I hope you enjoy the first chapter nonetheless!  
> And just so you know I did tweak your original prompt, “Someone has to die to save the world” to align more with “Someone has to die to save something of equal importance to the world.” I hope you don’t mind!  
> And a HUGE thank you to the mods for being wonderful and putting on a fantastic exchange.  
> POSSIBLE SPOILER TRIGGER WARNINGS AT END NOTES

Jason woke to his hands bound behind his back, his head pounding something fierce, and to someone slapping his face none too gently. 

If it wasn't for the rank breath of whoever was playing patty-cake with his face, he probably would have slipped back into unconsciousness. But nothing said _'good morning!'_ like the smell of a dead animal rotting in a Chipotle bathroom after a 'Mystery Bean Burrito Monday' special. 

Cracking an eye open, Jason tried to figure out if it really was someone's nasty-ass breath threatening to suffocate him or if he was actually being held hostage in a Chipotle bathroom that doubled as a dumping site for roadkill.

The sight he was met with was of an all too familiar pasty white face, complete with its signature yellow smile outlined by red lips and beady swamp-water-green eyes.

And of-fucking-course it would be the Joker who had breath that rivaled the Devils own farts.

"Wakey-wakey," the clown cooed, his words accompanied by another wave of fetid breath.

"Fuck off," Jason spat, swallowing down the wave of nausea that accompanied his words. The clown must have really done a number on his head this time. He didn't remember his head hurting this bad even after Artemis had challenged him to a drinking contest that had resulted in the worst hangover of his life. To this day, Jason refuses to drink anything blue. Blue cocktails were deceptively fun looking and should be illegal. One minute you're on your second drink thinking that all was right in the world and then the next thing you know, it's 3 am, you're on your knees with your head in some toilet that hasn't been cleaned since the 90s, puking out your sixth Blue Hawaiian while some chick in the next stall over is giving her boyfriend head. Jason 10/10 would not recommend. 

Another thing that Jason would not recommend was getting kidnapped, again, by a psychotic clown that had already beaten and blown you up to death once.

"Language, angry bird," the Joker chided with a grin, "what if Batsy heard you talking like that? You'd offend his delicate sensibilities!"

"Yeah? Well, I'd tell him to fuck off too," Jason growled, sending the Joker into a bought of mad laughter.

"You always were a feisty one," the Joker reminisced, dabbing at his eyes with a puke-green handkerchief, "remind me, how many licks of the old crowbar did it take to beat that out of you last time?"

Jason couldn't help the bile that began to collect in the back of his throat at the Joker's words. It also didn't help that they appeared to be in a warehouse eerily similar to the one the Joker had originally "kaboomed" him in. Was the clown really so goddamn bored that he had nothing better to do than kill him, _again_? Jason couldn't die like this, not again. He _wouldn't_ die like this.

This time would be different. This time he was a grown-ass man, a trained killer, not some idiotic kid way over his head, trying to play hero in green-panties and pixie boots. This time, he wouldn't be waiting for Bruce to swoop in at the last minute and save him. This time he'd save himself. This time he wouldn't die.

Jason hadn't even realized he'd zoned out until the clown was snapping his fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

"Jeez, kid. You better get your head on straight before the game."

"The game?" Jason repeated back numbly, not knowing what the Joker was talking about. Last time, there hadn't been a game, just his skull, a crowbar, and a big boom at the end.

"Well yeah! Weren't you listening? I got all the Robin's together so we could have some fun!" The Joker exclaimed with a flourish of his arms as he stood up from where he was crouched in front of Jason, stepping away to reveal the sight of the past and present Robins, each strung up by their wrists, feet barely brushing against the ground, and in Damian's case, a good foot off the ground.

"I was gonna string you up alongside them," the Joker continued, either not noticing or caring about the way Jason was staring wide-eyed at the others, "but between you and me, Uncle J isn't the spring chicken he used to be," the Joker said, lowering his voice as if he was sharing an intimate secret with Jason, " and I couldn't risk ruining all the fun by throwing my back out. I mean, look at you! I think you might even be bigger than Batsy himself! Daddy sure did feed you your Wheaties, didn't he?" The Joker continued to babble on, but Jason tuned him out in favor of looking at his unconscious brothers, trying to gauge if they were all at least still breathing while wondering how in the ever-loving-fuck the Joker managed to get them all. The last time Jason had checked, Dick wasn't even in the same hemisphere as the rest of them. Not to mention, Tim, who basically had the world's best bodyguard in the form of a certain Kryptonian that could usually be found attached to his hip (or face depending on if you were unfortunate enough to walk in on them "debriefing"). 

Staring at their unconscious forms, all Jason could see were reasons why dying here wasn’t an option.

Damian, no matter how much the little gremlin disputed it, was still a child, and no child, no matter their insane assassin upbringing, deserved to die like this. For fuck’s sake, the kid still had baby teeth. Damian might've been the annoying shadow that Jason never asked for, but dammit, he loved that 4’6” slightly murderous shadow and he wasn’t about to let his kid brother die at the hands of the Joker.

Then there was Tim. If anyone in this family had a chance of getting out of the life, it was him. He wasn’t bound to the vigilante life by some crusade or compulsion like Bruce and Dick. He wasn’t Jason who was too fucked up to ever consider a normal life, and he wasn’t Damian who was born into the life and would rather die in the life than give it up.

Tim—Tim had a chance. He had _friends_. Yeah, they were metas, but their friendships went beyond the vigilante life. Just last week, the clone had apparently asked Tim to prom. To a real fucking prom, to be real teenagers and do shitty teenager stuff that all teenagers should get the chance to do and later regret. Tim had a real shot at happiness, at being _normal_.

And Dickie- well, Dick was _his_ big brother. He kept the family together. None of them would be where they were now if it weren’t for Dick. Bruce would've long ago been consumed by the darkness if it weren't for Dick's light. Damian would probably still be the entitled murder-baby he was when they first got him if it weren't for Dick mama-birding the shit out of the kid and Tim probably would have drifted away from the family by now if it weren't for Dick always dragging him back and reassuring him that he was as much a part of the family as the rest of them. Heck, even Jason owed his place in the family to Dick. If it weren't for his big brother never giving up on him, no matter the insane shit Jason pulled, he would have forever been an outsider to the family, the lost brother, the forgotten son. The family wasn’t a family if there was no Dick Grayson, they needed him. _Jason_ needed him.

He couldn’t let any of them die here, not like this. He wouldn’t.

The Joker was still yammering on by the time Jason came back to himself, he was just about to yell at the clown to shut the fuck up when he noticed Dick begin to stir, his eyes fluttering open. From what Jason could see, it looked like Dick was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, unable to focus on anything in particular. If Jason had to hazard guess, he would bet that Dick was fighting off a drug-induced stupor. The clown must have drugged Dick and the others while opting to give Jason a good ol' head-bashing to knock him out (which by the way, what the fuck was up with the Joker when it came to bashing in his head every chance he got?). But despite Dick not being entirely coherent, his eyes were still open, which meant he was alive, that he was okay, that Jason wasn't here alone with the Joker and the bodies of his brothers. 

So caught up in his relief that Dick was still alive, Jason was calling out his brother’s name before he could think better of it, desperate to hear Dick’s voice, to know he was okay.

Upon hearing his name called out, Dick’s eyes fully opened, his dazed demeanor morphing into one of mild awareness as he took in his surroundings. His gaze lingered over the unconscious forms of Tim and Damian before landing on Jason and the Joker, Dick's eyes widening in what Jason assumed was the realization of just how fucked they were.

“Jay,” Dick rasped, immediately beginning to struggle against his bindings despite his obviously weakened state.

Jason was positive Bruce would be throwing a proper bitch fit right about now if he knew they were using their real names in front of the Joker, but Jason didn’t really think that it mattered. He was pretty sure the Joker already knew who they all were and just simply didn’t care. 

"Joker!" the clown responded gleefully, apparently not one to be left out during rollcall. Giggling, he made his way over to where the others were hanging, and for the first time since waking up, Jason noticed the clown had a revolver in his hand. It didn't look like he was planning on shooting anyone at the moment, but that's what made the Joker, the Joker. Just when you thought he wasn't going to do something, he did that exact thing.

"I was going to wait for all of you to wake up, but I think I might have misjudged the dosage I gave the little ones," the clown mused out loud as he poked Damian in the cheek with his finger.

To Jason's immense disappointment, Damian really was out cold and not just faking it. He was positive that if the kid had been awake when the Joker poked his cheek he would have bit the clown's finger off. Damian was a feral little thing like that sometimes. Jason loved it. 

But it was probably for the best that Damian wasn't awake to bite the clown's finger off or else they would have had to worry about getting the kid a rabies shot and undergoing Alfred's look of mild disappointment as he lectured them about how he thought they were all old enough to know by now not to put things in their mouth if they didn't know where those things had been.

Jason couldn't help the twitch of his lips at the thought of the elderly butler lecturing them as he administered a series of anti-viral shots to a sulking Damian.

Damn, he really hoped he got to see Alfie again. 

"Don't. Touch. Him." Dick gritted out between clenched teeth, in what Jason liked to call Dick's 'angry mama bird' voice.

"But he's just so adorable when he's not trying to impale me with his sword," the Joker cooed as he began to pinch Damian cheeks, smiling at Dick as he did so.

And if Damian wasn't going to wake up and bite the bastard, then Jason had seen enough of the clown fondling his kid brother.

"C'mon Joker, stop being a pedo and just tell us what you want," Jason spoke up, trying to get the Joker's attention back on him and away from an unconscious Damian. Jason just needed a few more minutes, and he'd have his hands free and be able to curb stomp the clown's manic smile off his face.

"Well," the Joker began, as he spun on his heel to face Jason, his grotesque smile widening even more, "first I want you to stop trying to get loose, I put a lot of work into those knots for you to just go and undo it all."

It wasn't until the Joker raised the gun and pointed it at Damian's head that Jason stopped his mitigations completely.

"Good birdy," The Joker praised, lowering the gun from Damian's head.

"Tell me something, angry bird," the Joker began, making his way over to stand between where Tim and Damian were hanging, "which of the baby birds do you love the most?"

The implications of Joker's question instantly had Jason seeing green. Was this the 'game'? To choose which brother lived or died? He was vaguely aware of Dick struggling against his bindings and yelling something at the Joker, but Jason couldn't tell what, everything was quickly narrowing down to one thing and one thing only- his sudden and overwhelming need to kill the Joker. He hadn't experienced a bout of pit rage (or as Tim annoyingly referred to it as him 'hulking-out') in almost a year, but it seemed that the clown asking him to choose between which brother lived or died was more than enough to trigger an episode.

"Joker!" Jason roared, staggering to his feet as he redoubled his efforts on the rope binding his hands behind his back. He was going to rip the clown apart, limb by limb. It was going to look like the motherfucker had been drawn and quartered by the time he was done with him, and if Jason didn't have his hands free by the time he made it over to the Joker, he'd start ripping the bastard apart with his teeth.

He had just taken his first step toward the Joker when he heard a name called out that he hadn’t heard in years—Little Wing. The name was enough to break through the green haze of the pit rage, freezing him in his tracks.

“You have to fight it, Jay,” the voice continued, tone pleading, “It’s going to be okay. I promise it will be okay, but you have to calm down." Jason wanted to listen to the voice, knew he should, but it warred with his intense desire to kill the Joker, and he wasn't sure which one would win. "Look at me, Little Wing. Just look at me…”

The more the voice talked, the more Jason began to recognize the voice. It was Dick. Dick was the one calling out to him. With an immense amount of willpower, Jason managed to tear his gaze away from the Joker and to his brother. As soon as their eyes met, the blue of his Dick's eyes began to overtake the green haze of the pit rage until there was blue and only blue left. With the rage fading away, he was slowly able to come back to himself, acutely aware of the fact that his actions could have not only gotten himself killed but his brothers as well. 

"Dick," Jason croaked, still overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions he had just experienced and wanting nothing more than to hear his big brothers voice.

"Yeah, it's me, Little Wing. I'm right here with you," Dick breathed out, relief evident on his face, "but you need to sit back down, 'kay?"

“I’d listen to Boy Wonder if I were you. One more step, and we’ll all find out what shade of red, Robin-red is!” the Joker cackled with his gun pointed towards Tim.

And of-fucking-course, the Joker couldn’t keep his mouth shut and just give Jason his goddamn moment. 

Despite wanting to do anything but sit back down, Jason conceded and once again lowered himself to the grimey floor, glowering at the Joker as he did so.

“I swear to whatever fucked-up deity shat you out, Joker. If you harm a single baby hair on either one of their heads, I will personally remove every single one of your fingers and shove them so far up your ass that you will be picking your nose.”

The Joker seemed more amused than anything else at Jason's threat, obviously not taking it seriously as he gave a low whistle in response. “Does he really kiss Batsy with that mouth?” the clown faux whispered out of the side of his mouth to an unconscious Damian.

“Joker,” Jason growled warningly, not in the mood for the clown's games, “Just tell us what you want so we can get this over with.” "Sheesh, I forgot what a killjoy you are,” the Joker grumbled, “I don’t know why you bats always bother with that question, what do I ever want?”

“To get fucked and die?” Jason answered cheekily, not really giving a shit if it pissed the clown off. As long as he kept the Joker’s attention off the others he’d be happy. 

The Joker gave Jason an unimpressed look before replying with a flat, “No.”

“Oh! I know!” Dick shouted overly enthusiastic, his voice bright and chipper, as if having a conversation with the insane clown was one of his favorite pastimes, “you want to overcome your deep-seated desire to be accepted by a society that has only ever scorned you.”

“What? No!” The Joker exclaimed, looking genuinely baffled by Dick's response.

"It's like you two don't even know me!" The Joker said with an exaggerated huff, "What do I ever want?" the Joker asked again only to answer his own question, "For someone to die, of course!"

Jason couldn't help but roll his eyes, he was so over Joker and his thespian dramatics. If he was going to kill them, then he should just put a bullet in their heads. Jason didn't need a whole goddamn production every time the Joker got the urge to screw with them.

"Oh fuck off, you green stained tampon," and Jason probably should have left it at that, but his filter had gone out the window around the same time the Joker had put a gun to his brother's head, "and how long have I been sitting here listening to you babble like a goddamn three-year-old hyped up on cocaine? At least 30 minutes. But with the bitchin' concussion, I no doubt have, and you're god awful laugh that sounds more like someone threw Alvin and the Chipmunks into a fucking woodchipper than an actual human laugh, it feels like it's been three hours at the DMV. So, if next time you would please just give me the SparkNotes version of you saying you're going to kill someone instead of going into a drawn-out monologue about it, I would fucking appreciate it."

The Joker did not look pleased with Jason's impromptu rant and neither did Dick for that matter. While the Joker was just starring blankly at Jason with cold and assessing eyes, Dick was alternating between mouthing _'Really, Jason, really?'_ and _'A green-stained, tampon?'_ Which hey, he could admit that it probably wasn't his best insult or the smartest idea to go off on the Joker like that, but he could do without the judgment right now, thank you very much.

"Kill someone, huh?" The Joker finally said, making his way over to Jason, and of-fucking-course, out of everything Jason had just said, the clown would fixate on the killing part. Jason could tell by the way the clown was looking at him that whatever was about to happen was going to suck balls, but at least he had the Joker's full attention now. He just hoped that Dick would actually take advantage of the distraction, instead of playing 'who gets to be the sacrifice' hot potato with him.

The Joker squatted down until he was at the same level as Jason, using the barrel of his gun to tip Jason's head back until he was meeting his eyes.

"I'm surprised Batsy never washed that dirty mouth of yours out with soap." The Joker mused as he examined where the barrel of the gun rested against Jason's throat.

Jason was just about to retort that he was surprised the clown even knew what soap was considering the man smelled like he had never used soap in his life, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the Joker was shoving the barrel of the gun into his mouth. The action took Jason by surprise, and he couldn't help but choke on the heavy metal.

"Joker, wait!" Dick shouted, "I'm sure Jason didn't really mean to call you a green-stained tampon," which false, Jason totally meant to call the psycho clown that. "C'mon Joker, take the gun out of his mouth," Dick continued and Jason was a little surprised, was Dick really going to start pleading with the clown? "There's no need to get mad over that comment when we all know you're more of a green shit stain," and oop, there it was, Dick trying to bring the Joker's wrath down on himself. Jason really wished that he didn't have a gun in his mouth right now so that he could tell his brother to fuck off and let him be the self-sacrificing idiot for once, but Dick was never good at letting others have their turn at this sort of thing. 

The Joker didn't even glance back at Dick as he replied, "Hush Boy Wonder, I'm playing with angry bird right now."

" Joker-"Dick began again, but the Joker was quick to interrupt him.

"The next word out of you is going to result in a dead Robin," he said it calmly, never taking his eyes off Jason.

Dick must have taken the Joker's threat seriously since he didn't protest when the Joker began to shove the gun further into Jason's mouth, the barrel scrapping against the delicate flesh at the back of his throat.

Jason was a little out of practice when it came to deep throating guns, so he couldn't help it when he began to gag and choke around the barrel. The situation was only made worse by the distressed noises coming from Dick. _Goddamn it, Dickie, just look away_ , he couldn't help but think. He didn't want Dick to see him die, especially not this way.

"Now, where were we?" The Joker asked. Jason opted to just glare at the man since he knew damn well that Jason couldn't answer him even if he wanted to.

"Oh yeah! Soap!" The Joker smiled cruelly at Jason as he audibly choked on the gun again, "Like I was saying, usually a good mouth washing works on little birds with dirty mouths, but I think washing your mouth out with some bullets might be a more effective approach in your case."

Jason just glared harder at the man. At this rate, he was more likely to suffocate on the gun than live long enough for the Joker to pump him full of bullets.

"Oh? What's this?" the Joker questioned, as he wiped a thumb at the corner of Jason's eye, "Is Uncle J being too mean to the little bird and making him cry?"

Jason tried to growl at the now snickering clown because he was _not_ crying, and he didn't need Dick thinking that he was. Were his eyes tearing up? Yes. But that tended to happen when someone had a gun shoved down your throat.

"How about Uncle J cheers you up with a joke?" the Joker asked, easing up on the gun, but not completely removing it from Jason's mouth, "Four Robin's walk into a bar and only three walk out," the Joker paused his grin widening, "what's the punch line, kid?" He asked eyes glinting with malicious glee.

With the gun no longer lodged in his throat, Jason could somewhat answer, but his reply came out garbled, considering there was still a gun taking up most of his mouth.

"Now, I'm going to remove this," the clown wiggled the gun in Jason's mouth to make it clear what he was talking about, as if he could be talking about anything else, "so I can properly understand you, and I want no filth coming out of that mouth, young man."

The moment the gun was out of his mouth, Jason spat in the clown's face.

The Joker sighed and slowly wiped away Jason's spit with the same vomit-green handkerchief Jason had seen earlier, before promptly pistol-whipping him upside the head, which _ow_ , that most definitely was not going to help his concussion.

"Joker!" Dick yelled, obviously unable to contain himself any longer, but Jason was determined to keep the Joker's attention on himself and off of Dick and his other brother's.

"You ain't killing shit, clown," Jason growled.

The Joker's eyes, which had momentarily strayed to Dick, snapped back to Jason. His hand coming up to grab Jason's face, gripping his face tight enough that Jason could feel his teeth cutting into his inner cheeks.

"Do I have to remind you that I already killed you, angry bird?"

"And you obviously did a shit job of it! I'm still here, ain't I?"

"I suppose you are." The Joker murmured, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to search Jason's face, for what, he didn't know. The clown gave Jason's cheeks one last squeeze before standing up and making his way to where the others were hanging, which was the exact opposite of what Jason wanted the Joker to do.

The clown stopped in front of Tim and Damian to poke their cheeks, and as far as Jason could tell, they were both still out cold. He was starting to worry that neither boy had woken up yet. Was the Joker really so stupid that he just gave them random doses of whatever the fuck he had used to knock them out? 

Jason thought about trying to draw the clown's attention again but was afraid that the Joker might take his anger out on the other's instead of Jason himself. After some internal debate, he decided that as long as the Joker didn't do more than poke Tim and Damian on their face he'd stay quiet.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to have to start without the little ones,” the Joker sighed, giving Tim one last poke.

“Start what?” Dick asked through clenched teeth, his eyes trained on the Joker while the clown was still so close to their unconscious brothers. Jason could tell that Dick was really starting to feel the strain from being strung up for so long by the way he kept shifting his weight. The longer Dick was tied up like that, the worse he would be off in the inevitable fight against the clown.

“Well, I thought we’d have our own little fight night!” the Joker grinned, turning his attention to Dick.

And well, Jason hadn’t been expecting that, but it was better than, say, the Joker playing forehand and backhand with their heads. Joker was undoubtedly going to play dirty somehow, but at least Dick or he would have a chance of making it out of here alive if the clown was willing to fight them.

“You know, Joker, I think that’s a swell idea! Now, if you’d just be a gent and help me down, I’d be happy to fight you!” Dick said, beaming at the Joker as he nodded up at his bound hands. But there was no way in hell that Jason was letting Dick fight the Joker first, he was obviously still coming down from whatever the Joker had gassed him with.

“Oh fuck off, dickhead. The Joker’s owed me a rematch for years now, I’m fighting him.”

“Hood—” Dick began, only to get cut off by the Joker’s maniacal laughter.

The two waited for the clown’s laughter to die off, knowing that there was no point in trying to talk to him when he was like this.

“Oh, now that’s funny!” the Joker exclaimed, dramatically wiping away at tears that Jason knew for a fact did not exist, “you’re not fighting me, silly birds! You’re fighting each other!”

Jason was just about to tell the Joker where he could shove that idea when Dick beat him to the punch, albeit in a more 'Dick Grayson' fashion.

“But I’d much rather fight you, Joker. I’ve missed us.” Dick said, batting his eyelashes, “Me hitting you, you trying to push me into a vat of chemicals, me kicking you in the face and breaking your nose and telling Batman it was an accident even though we all know it wasn’t.” Dick was now beaming at Joker, “C’mon, what do you say, we can even end it with a nostalgic trip back to Arkham with you in a straightjacket!” he finished with a wink.

“If you’re looking for some nostalgia, Boy Wonder, how about I give you another Robin to burry?” The Joker countered.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Jason roared at the same time Dick broke free of his bindings, but just as quickly as Dick had broken into a flurry of motion, he stopped, frozen mid-step, staring at the Joker, who now had the barrel of his gun pressed against Damian’s head.

“Now, now boys,” the Joker sing-songed, “unless you want to add baby bird’s brains to my interior design, I highly suggest we all behave like the outstanding Gotham citizens we are,” the Joker cackled madly, pressing the gun harder against the soft flesh of Damian’s temple.

“Fine,” Jason gritted out, “we’ll give you your shitty fight, but I swear to god, Joker, if you—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the Joker interrupted, rolling his eyes “will you stop with the threats, angry bird? I’m not going to kill anyone tonight, as long as you two play along.”

Jason gave the Joker a flat look, not believing that for one second.

“Scouts honor,” the Joker said with a grin, raising his hand in a mock salute.

Jason and Dick shared a look, silently discussing their options, but it was obvious there was only one viable option. If they wanted everyone, sans the Joker, to make it out of here alive they'd have to play along with whatever the clown had in store for them until they figured a way out of this mess.

“Fine, we’ll do it,” Dick eventually gritted out, not at all looking happy about it. But Jason knew better than to leave it at that when it came to the clown, “What kind of fight do you want, Joker?” 

The Joker’s grin widened at the question, and yep, Jason knew he wasn’t going to like this one bit.

“Well, the only fight worth fighting, of course! A fight to the death!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Touching of unconscious persons (NON-Sexual) but still creepy, shoving a gun into someone’s mouth, Non-sexual bondage
> 
> Your thoughts? Your hopes? Your fears?


End file.
